


The Witch of Paper Chains

by skylerSlapdash



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Amnesia, Castle Oblivion (Kingdom Hearts), Femdom, Mind Control, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylerSlapdash/pseuds/skylerSlapdash
Summary: Kairi loves the idea of Sora having erotic dreams. Perhaps she would love it less if she knew what those dreams were about. Perhaps Sora would love it less too if he remembered them. (MMF threesome, Sora/Namine/Roxas, mind control.)





	The Witch of Paper Chains

 

There are many dreams that Sora does not remember. He writhes at night, sometimes in his own bed, sometimes in Kairi's, sometimes on a bedroll in Riku's house. Only Kairi, ever the light sleeper, notices the way he moans during these dreams, notices the way he rubs up against her without thinking.

It turns her on. She rubs her ass against him softly, almost uncertainly, til it is not enough and she leaves for the bathroom to finish herself off. In the morning she asks Sora if he had any fun dreams. He grins and says he doesn't remember.

"That sucks," Kairi says with a wink. "Could I help remind you?"

You can guess where it goes from there.

After a day of play and training with his friends, Sora turns in for the night--sometimes alone, sometimes not--and on the threshold of sleep he wonders what, exactly, he keeps dreaming about...

* * *

 

Sora dreams about a white place, unpleasant and nearly blinding in its purity. Didn't walk there. No portals either. He's just there as if he always had been. Ostentatious white-petaled flower sculptures, white tables, white chairs, a layout like an alien art installation. The smell of roses is intoxicatingly thick in the air, with a faint hint of sweat and musk. He crosses the room, boots clacking against the white floor (no entrances and no exits, he notes), and sits down at a chair.

A girl is now sitting across from him, her hands folded in her lap. She's simply there, suddenly, without fanfare, sounds, or flashes of light. Her hair is long and lustrous, a shade of blonde nearly as bright as the room around her. "So," she says softly. She touches her finger to her lips and smiles teasingly. "Here we are again."

"Again?" Sora's voice echoes oddly in the white place, as if the room is much wider than it looks. "Oh. This is one of those dreams, isn't it?"

"What dreams?" the girl--Namine, Sora remembers--asks coyly. "I don't know what you could be talking about. What do you think, Roxas?"

The blood rushes to Sora's cheeks. "For the last time, will you people stop calling me--"

"C'mon, Sora," says the boy to Sora's right. "Don't be rude. She wasn't talking to you." Roxas kicks back in his seat, big black boots on the table, black coat draped around him like a raven's wingspan. "What do I think, Namine? I think you should stop fucking around and get going. We don't have all night."

"Tough words," says Namine. "Maybe I should call someone else here to punish you, hmm? Do your job for you?" Her fingers trail up from her lap, up the stomach of her thin white dress. Very thin. Sora can see the tips of her nipples through the fabric, light pink and erect. "Xion is so submissive. Throw her a bone and she'll do anything." Her fingers brush the tips of her nipples through her dress. Round and round and round.... "Ventus, more eager than he looks. So much stamina. And Vanitas is a real beast. I do love to tame him."

"These dreams," says Sora,

"do they happen," continues Roxas

"every night?" Namine finishes. "Yes. Different people. Different acts. Every night." She pauses her rubbing, gasps. Stops for a moment, flushed. "Sorry."

"But it's just a dream," says Sora, "right? None of this is real."

"If that makes you comfortable," says Roxas, folding his arms over his bare chest. When had he taken off his shirt?  _I didn't look away_ , Sora thinks.  _Did I_?

"It's real to us," says Namine. She's playing with the strap on her dress right now, running her left hand under it.  _Snap_. The left side curls over her chest, down and down and not  _quite_  enough...

"I don't know if I want to," says Sora, and already he can feel his body disagreeing, cock rubbing up against a growing wet spot in his underwear. He imagined Kairi rubbing her ass against him. Those soft little moans she made, so quiet she must've thought he didn't hear them, but it made him so hard knowing she wanted him like that, needed him...

"Have you ever considered what we want, Sora?" Namine whispers. "All of us here inside your head--are we even alive? Do you have any idea how upsetting it is that we don't even know the answer to that--any idea at all?"

"Namine--" Roxas starts. The memory witch raises a finger at him and he falls silent.

"We have to live like a virus, you know that? Only coming to life a little bit a time, then back to sleep when you wake up. And you know how when you're thirsty or hungry for a long time and you need to,  _need_  to get as much down your throat as you can, fast as you can? Well," says Namine.

"We're thirsty," says Roxas.

"And if you really don't want to, you must've forgotten who you're dealing with," says the witch. Paper chains rise from the floor, writhing like worms, snatching Sora's wrists in mid-air. He barely catches a glimpse of them--crown-shaped cards threaded with red string. They lash around his arms, slap him out of his chair and down to the white floor.

The stinging stops immediately. Something rushes through his skin, down his arms, and the paper chains glow with a dim red light. He feels his erection pushing against his pants now, agonizingly, begging for some sort of release--and bending over him now, smiling cruelly, the witch. Her blonde hair falls over his head now, and through the fog and the cards he can hear her giggling.

"Still not used to it? No worries, Sora. This is just a fantasy. Just a wet dream, or--oh, better yet!--porn, okay? We're just porn." She leans over him now, close enough for him to feel her hot breath on his cheeks, and his cock throbs. "Let the chains guide you."

"She's right," says Roxas. His ocean-blue eyes are blank, his hand runs up and down his cock as he stares at Namine's ass as if his gaze penetrates that thin cloth. A chain of cards shivers in his hand, twists suddenly, and he moans. Sora looks away, groans, feels the snap of his waistband as Namine pulls it experimentally.

_Kairi,_  thinks Sora. Namine snaps it playfully, pulls it back all the way, kisses the wet spot on his underwear.  _Kairi, red hair, the way she beams, soft moans, soft_ , and Namine beams just like that, moans briefly, and Sora wonders who exactly he was thinking about as Namine locks eyes with him and takes his cock in her mouth.

The chains tighten, a gush of pleasure. She sucks slowly. Every dip is a point of light, warmth, just like the red-haired girl, what's-her--face. You don't know, do you, Sora? It doesn't matter. Stop paying attention to that. You're here with us.

Namine sucks harder, faster--and then pauses as Roxas slaps her ass under the hem of her dress. Roxas's pants fall around his ankles. He kicks them to the side and begins grinding against the back of Namine's pussy with his barely-clothed cock. Namine nearly purrs with pleasure, grinds back. It stirs a memory in Sora's heart, almost--and then the chains pull at him, he tastes strange honey in his mouth and there is the need to thrust, to come in this beautiful girl's mouth, to come right now for she needs it,  _needs it_ \--

\--and he bursts as she takes it fully into her throat, blue eyes wide, blonde hair hanging ludicrously on either side of her head, coming into that head, into her, into--

\--and Sora should be tired, should be so tired, but the chains around his wrists tell him--and Sora can feel his name itself disappearing into the warmth and the coming--the chains speak and tell him that it is not enough, cannot be enough. Through the haze he pulls loose from her mouth and sees Roxas, blonde-hair in a sweaty matted mess over his head now as he thrusts mindlessly into Namine's ass. She groans and moans greedily, miserably, like it's never enough, and she is right.

The chains guide Sora gently onto the floor, slide his shorts off (slick with sweat) and stroke his cock gently. They stroke Namine's tits lightly even as two other chains pull off the dress, leave it on the floor beside Sora's pants. Sora hears the siren shriek of Namine coming, the gravelly moan of Roxas shooting into her ass, seed spilling out onto the white ground, but they pause only for a moment before they continue. Dripping sweat, come.

Hunger. Thirst.

Namine lowers herself slowly over Sora, Roxas lowering too, never stopping, and Sora can feel his thoughts evaporating with the pull of the chains, can feel that horrible thankfulness as the whole world becomes nothing more than his cock and the waiting pussy of a loving slut. He bites his lip as Namine lowers herself onto him, and the heat of her body (no condom, not here, but who that Sora knew had used a condom, anyway? who?) nearly made him come at once.

Sora doesn't come, not yet. Namine rocks forward, her breasts wiggling over his chest. He thrusts, she shudders, from behind Roxas answers and buries his cock in Namine's ass, still slick with come. Her focus is on Sora now, she needs him to really feel him, feel her pussy swallowing his cock. 

The chains tighten. A few last memories fall away.

Always been here in the white place. Heaven.  _Fuck me, please,_ he thinks, and the last of his restraint evaporates. She sees the animal in his eyes and her ass shoves back, needed Roxas's cock, needed that domination from them both, and the boys grant her their throbbing cocks. On the floor Sora is melting, must be melting, his limbs drenched in sweat as his pelvis thrusts on its own, hot as the sun, Namine the sun, a supernova orgasm heating up in his stomach, his groin, the base, the tip of his cock,

Falling. Roxas falls to his knees, gasping, fucking her ass and needed to come again, never enough. Namine falls onto his cock and he hits her there, right there. The dam breaks and she comes, squirts her juices, contracts. Sora feels her surrounding him, choking his manhood, and there's nothing else but her and himself and the other boy, such a good teammate, dominating and dominated all of them.

Supernova. Overflow. Cries out. Mixed juices, so hot, constricted,  _oh fuck me, Sora, fuck me_ \--

and there is a moment of pure flow.

Roxas is the first to separate. He slaps his cock against her ass, spurting come, and almost laughs. Namine lies panting on top of Sora, the boy that is hers, and slowly--reluctantly--pulls herself off of him, lying beside him. Roxas lies on the floor beside her.

The chains loosen. The dream is ending. Namine, having had quite a lot of practice, gets to work on erasing Sora's memory. In the physical world Kairi sits on the toilet pleasuring herself, trying desperately to imagine what Sora is seeing, hoping she is close to the mark, but she's not. And as Sora's form fades and the three players return to their respective places, Roxas slides closer to Namine and puts a hand on her chest. He feels its rise and its fall.

"Namine," says Roxas, "are you proud of yourself?"

"Hypocrite," says Namine, and that is where our shared dream ends.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this piece. [ I also have a (thoroughly NSFW) Tumblr where I post this fiction, other fragments, more original work, and reblog a whole bunch of horny anime crap. I always appreciate a follow! ;) Whether or not you take me up on that, I hope you have a wonderful day / night / timeless void!](http://skyler-slapdash.tumblr.com/)


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